Battered Souls, Broken Dreams
by BackwoodsWordsmith
Summary: *Story is VERY MUCH ALIVE, and will be updated soon.*
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Firefly, Serenity, or any of the other characters created by Master Whedon. Nor do I own Ranma ½, or any other character created by Takahashi-sama. Not makin' any money, please don't sue.

'' = thoughts

"" = speech

:: = telepathic communication

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Prologue: Strange Happenings, or Trouble on the Wind

_"There's not much difference between a life of crime and an honest life.. It's just a little more dangerous. Either way, you still get a crappy boss, lousy pay, an angry spouse, and an ulcer the size of a softball. Still, there's less chance of getting shot if you live a life of crime." Andrew'Andy' Cobb, dedicated security specialist, transport _Stonewall.

_"What she said." Jayne Cobb, public relations officer, transport _Firefly.

'Gotta be a better way to start the day than staring down the barrel of a gun.' was Captain Malcolm Reynolds' first thought to himself. Seeing the person responsible for his rude awakening, Mal groaned. 'Of course. Can't be havin' us a nice day when we're finally startin' to make good.'

River Tam was focusing on something no one else could see. While this was not an unusual pastime for her, it had been happening less and less often, and what she said next caused Kaylee to look at Simon in confusion and growing alarm. "She won't hurt him. Just wants his attention."

"Mei mei, she won't hurt who? Is something happening?" Simon asked, slowly starting to become alarmed. His sense of alarm only grew as he watched her get up from her seat at the breakfast table, and it spiked as she grabbed one of the small pots they used for soup. "Mei mei, where are you going with that? River?" As they looked on in consternation, River left the mess and headed for the captain's cabin.

As she arrived at the stairs leading to Mal's bunk, she closed her eyes, intent on capturing every last nuance of thought from the intruder below. When she had learned enough, she dropped soundlessly down into Mal's cabin, landing behind the woman standing there, and waited.

"So what brings you to Persephone, Inara? Finally get those divorce papers drawn up? Or did you just miss your 'airen'?" Inwardly, Mal started to kick himself. 'Yeah, like she don't got enough reasons to shoot you.'

The skin tightened almost imperceptibly around her eyes, and she inhaled sharply, but then seemed to expend some effort to control herself. "As much as I wish this was a business call, it's personal. I need help, Mal."

His eyes widened at the haggard sound of her voice, and then shifted from her face to her gun. "Well you sure got a funny way of askin'. Way I see it, you'll not be gettin' any help from me 'less you put that gun up."

"Sorry, Mal, I can't do that. I have to make sure I have your undivided attention." As she said that, she took another two steps into Mal's small cabin. Her nose wrinkled at the musty smell, and a small moue of distaste flickered across her face at the sight of dirty laundry littering the floor. "Ugh, I see this place hasn't changed a bit. Don't you ever clean around here?"

"Hey! I'll have you know I clean this place at LEAST once a year."

"I see that you missed last year's, then. I've seen barns that are cleaner than this pigst…." CLANG!! Inara dropped like a sack of stones, and lay limp on the floor.

"Everything okay, Captain Daddy?" River asked with wide-eyed innocence, attempting unsuccessfully to hide the pot behind her back.

"I 'spect it will be, little albatross. Why don't you go run get Zoe whilst I see to our unexpected guest here. I conjure she's got some storytellin' to do."

"She's in trouble. Needs our help."

Mal quirked his eyebrow. "That a fact? She's got a funny way of askin' for help.

Best run along and get Zoe, and have the Doc come take a look at her head. You did hit her a mite hard, after all." So saying, Mal threw the covers off and got up. Walking over, he noticed something… different about Inara, but before he could pinpoint the changes, River drew his attention elsewhere.

"Hearts aren't really you, Captain Daddy."

As he looked at her in confusion, sleep still fogging his brain, she pointed down. As he followed the direction of her finger, he let out a squeak and grabbed the blanket to cover himself. "Just run get Zoe, mei mei." He tried to put all of his captainy authority in his voice, but knew he wasn't entirely successful.

"Yes, sir, Captain Daddy!" She flashed him a mock salute, turned, and scampered up the ladder.

"That girl. Swear she tries to annoy us…." Dropping the blanket, he turned to get dressed.

"Everything shiny down here, Cap'n? Oooh, pretty hearts!"

Whirling around, he spotted Kaylee's head peering in the ladder access at him. He squeaked again, grabbing the blanket and wrapping himself in it again. "Everythin's fine here, Kaylee. Just go see 'bout the engine room. We might have to leave quick-like after the meet, and I want her warmed up and ready to go when we get back from Badger's."

Undaunted, the young woman just grinned. "Okay, Cap'n, but if you need anything, just yell, okay?"

Sighing in relief as her grinning head disappeared, he dropped the blanket and started to dress. It was a fortunate thing he did, as no sooner had he slipped his suspenders over his shoulders than he heard the sound of his first mate's boots on the deck above his cabin.

"Everything all right, Sir?" Zoe asked from above.

"No, everything is NOT alright! We got people sneaking onto MY ship, pointing guns at MY head, and crazy little girls hitting people with soup pots. Other than that, everything's just shiny! Get Jayne and take our prisoner here to one of the passenger cabins and have Doc look after her. I conjure she's got some storytellin' to do."

At the mention of prisoners, Zoë's face appeared in the access way. Upon seeing Inara, she smirks and remarks, "I see you still have it, Sir. She wasn't on board five minutes, and you already made her so mad she drew on you. Why is it that every woman you sleep with wants to kill you?"

"You mean you let her on my boat? After I told her not to come back?"

"Well, she waved yesterday, while we were on that job for Badger, and last night I was asking you if she could visit, and you said yes."

As her grinning face disappears, he takes the time to indulge in a long string of Mandarin cursing, and swore he would never, EVER go back to an Alliance bar on U-day. It left a body open to all sorts of deviltry concocted by overly scheming first mates. His stream of invective had barely died away when he heard a silvery giggle, like a little bell ringing, and River dropped soundlessly down into his cabin holding a short length of rope.

Mal took a moment to marvel at the changes in the girl in the six months since that disaster at Miranda. She had taken to wearing a close-fitting red silk shirt that had wooden togs, and black silk pants that showed off her slender frame quite fetchingly, and he smiled as he noticed her bare feet. Her hair was immaculately groomed, as were her clothes, and her eyes were almost shining with an inner light. But the biggest change, Mal thought, had to be her smile. It was like Kaylee's; when she smiled, the sun came out. 'Don't see it often enough,' he thought to himself

As she followed his train of thought, she smiled, then stuck out her tongue. "Long road to come back down, Captain Daddy. Still have bad days, but better days more often now. I can think clearer more. Still fuzzy, but getting better." She let Mal muse on that as she efficiently tied Inara hand and foot.

"So how long you think she'll nap, little 'tross?"

River tilted her head to the side and considered, then said, "One hour, forty-eight minutes, thirty-seven seconds. Approximately." She paused, then said, "She needs help to find a wild horse."

'I wonder if she realizes how creepifying that is.' Mal thought to himself.

"Yes, I do."

Jumping slightly, he glared at her. "Gorammit, girl, I told you to never read me!"

"Sorry, Captain Daddy. You think too loud." So saying, she scampered up the ladder in a flash, and was, suddenly, gone as she had come, to the sound of her musical laugh.

Bending down, Mal picked up the gun Inara had dropped. Startled by the light weight, he checked the magazine, and was unsurprised to find it empty. Looking at the bound woman at his feet, Captain Malcolm Reynolds found himself asking just what kind of trouble would drive a woman who he was pretty sure hated him now to ask him for help, even if it was at gunpoint. Did he really want more trouble so soon after Miranda, and for a woman who had cause to shoot him out of hand, after what he'd done? "Just what are you bringin' to my door, bao bei?" So engrossed in thought was he that he missed entirely the clomp of Jayne's boots on the deck, and jumped slightly when Jayne called down, "Zoë said we got prisoners? Ain't nothin' gone wrong yet, why we got a prisoner?"

Rolling his eyes at Jayne's usual brusque manner, Mal said, "It's Inara. Just take her to a passenger cabin and have the doc take a look at her. After that, cut them ropes and get down to the cargo bay so we can get this business with Badger over with and get back in the black. And Jayne? No grenades! I mean it!"

There was a moment of silence, and then Jayne said, "You sure you want me to leave 'em, Mal? You know what happened last time you said leave 'em…"

Mal pondered that for a quick moment. 'The man does have a point….'"Fine, but no more than three. And they better not be those gorram Betsy's of yours, either! Last thing we need is to burn down the warehouse district. Dong ma?"

"Gotcha, Cap'n. I'll be down in ten."

As he watched Jayne take Inara up the ladder, Mal couldn't help but think that, whatever her problem was, it was serious. He also knew that, unless it was outright suicide, he would do everything in his power to help her. It was the least he could do, after what he did; he just hoped she accepted his help.

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A/N: Well, here goes nothin'…. This is an idea that's been kicking around in my head for FAR too long. For those of you who don't know(which I'm sure is everyone, as this is the prologue) I intend for this to be a crossover with Ranma ½, but I'm having trouble coming up with a plausible (or at least semi-coherent) way to bring him into the cast. So I think I'll ask all of you which you like. You can vote at my profile.

Ranma was in cryo, and the crew of Serenity stumble onto him during an illegal salvage op. (Already been done, but not with Ranma.)

Ranma was imprisoned at the Academy, where River was uploaded with a memory engram of some of his less-advanced combat techniques. (By the by, this is the one I favor. Also probably the hardest, as I'll have to explain how they could POSSIBLY capture him. Hmm…. Bears more thought.)

The Tams (or another crew member) are descendants of Ranma, and he decides to check in on his favorite great-great-grandchild. (Probably my favorite esthetically, and fairly easy…. Maybe.)

Ranma has wandered the 'verse and eventually settled on a small space station orbiting a black rock. For this one, he should have run into a few of the crew members before (maybe in an Alliance bar on U-day, or something). This one has possibilities as well.

Ranma follows Ryouga, and gets spectacularly lost.

As this is mainly to get this demon out of my head, I'll probably do all four for my own amusement, so if you're REALLY nice (or especially insistent) I might publish the others later. I look forward to counting the votes(if anybody ever reads this, that is…..), and I'll get the next chapter out as soon as I can. Oh, and when Ranma finally gets here, I'll explain his apparent immortality. If you can guess what it is, you get a E-cookie. It's got chocolate chips, even. Mmmmm, chocolate……

Anyway, if you like it, please let me know if you want me to continue. Any constructive criticism is welcome, but this is MY sandbox, so if you can't say something nice (or at least decently sarcastic, funny, and/or vitriolic), go play somewhere else, or I'll make you eat a mud-pie. Ja ne


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own nothin'. Just usin' 'em while ole Mr. Whedon is away. Ditto for the Ranma cast. Any other character is fair game, though…

"" = speech

'' = thought

:: = telepathic communication

Chapter 1: Everyone's a Comedian, or It's All Fun and Games 'til Someone Gets Shot

_"When you feel everything, you can't lie to yourself. That is a very scary feeling."_

_Simon Tam, Ship's Surgeon, Firefly-class transport _Serenity

_"There is no possible or impossible. If you steer the lesser probabilities along the path to becoming greater probabilities, you can do what everyone says should not be possible."_

_River Tam, Pilot, Firefly-class transport _Serenity

Mal looked on as Jayne stacked the three small, iron-bound wooden crates on the back of the mule trailer, and strapped them down securely. He didn't know what was in them, but they were heavy, and Badger was paying a pretty penny for them, so they had to be valuable. Of course, they'd had to salvage them from a derelict ship on the edge of the system, but it hadn't taken them too long, and Kaylee had even scrounged a few good parts for Serenity in the process.

He'd had to resist temptation a few times to avoid opening the crates, but Badger had been insistent. If they were still there, they were to be brought to him unopened, or he wouldn't be paying them, and although times were better than a few months ago, they couldn't afford to blow this job, or any other. So, he restrained himself, and did the same for Jayne, lest the money from this job go up in smoke. Still, he did wonder….

Mal knew that his burning desire to know what was in the boxes was, in part, due to his desire to avoid thinking about the woman in his No. 1 passenger cabin. The woman who, even now, was being tended by Simon and Kaylee, and would probably be asking for help as soon as he returned. But the simple act of trying not to think about her did nothing but bring her to the forefront of his mind, and he found himself remembering their wedding… at least the pieces he could. But that only served to remind him of his shame, and almost against his will, he found himself reliving those joyous days, and that one dreadful moment…..

It had started as something of a joke to almost everyone involved, but grew on it's own from there with startling speed. After Miranda, when they'd finally had time to see Wash and Shepherd Book decently buried, along with the rest of the inhabitants of Haven caught there by the Operative's cruel orders and an Alliance gunboat, Zoë had insisted on throwing a party. She said, "Wash always wanted to have the best funeral party in the 'verse. He's been planning it since he was in Flight Academy, and I've been saving a case of that Osiris GoldenFire whiskey for a special occasion. I can't think of any better cause, nor a bunch more deserving of a good, stiff drink. I think he'd like that."

As she'd trailed off, and her eyes focused, just for a second, on a person who was no longer there, he'd felt like his heart was breaking, too. So he did the only thing he could. "Y'know, I believe that is a fine idea. Come to think of it, I might have a little something squirreled away, too. We'll even get the shepherd what's doin' the funerals tipsy. Maybehaps he'll have somethin' interesting to say then."

After the funeral, everyone had need of a little relief from the depression, and they actually smiled when they got back on board to find that, somehow, Kaylee had gotten the mess decorated, laid out a selection of finger foods, tapped a small keg of beer for Jayne, opened a bottle of wine, and had whiskey and glasses in close proximity to a small tub of ice, in case the shepherd was inclined to take his on the rocks, all in time to attend the funeral herself and telling no one, not even Simon, so that they could have a pleasant surprise, after all the gloom and horror they'd witnessed.

The party had been a great success. Zoë, Mal, and Inara sat at the table drinking shots of GoldenFire whiskey and sharing stories about Wash and Shepherd Book. Simon, after taking a shot, said he'd stick with the wine, and he and Kaylee left early, furtively peeking about to see if they'd been noticed. They had been, which occasioned some bawdy jokes from an inebriated Zoë and Mal, and one from Inara that was downright lewd, and which had them laughing uncontrollably for several minutes. The main surprise had been Shepherd Paul, who was over in the corner with Jayne, drunkenly arguing the pros and cons of various heavy rifles, pistols, and grenades. Jayne was enjoying himself greatly, and even took a few notes. That caused even River to goggle a bit, but after the few glasses of wine she'd had, she didn't think about it too long, deciding instead to go to bed and tease him in the morning. The only thing Mal remembered after that was looking at a smiling Shepherd, and kissing Inara.

The next afternoon, Mal awoke slowly. The severe pounding in his head drowned out all thought, and he knew that if he opened his eyes, it would only result in pain. So, he just lay there, hoping to either die or that his hangover would miraculously disappear. Thus, it was several minutes before he mustered the force of will to overpower the pounding in his head to take stock. 'Feet….. check. Legs…… rubbery, but check.

Stomach….. Let's skip that for now. Chest….. warm. Arms….. one asleep, the other cold. Head….. ow.'

Mental inventory done, he reluctantly decided he might live. It was several moments before his brain detected the differences in his usual sleeping arrangements and…. This. Whatever this was. 'The bed's too soft. The sheet's are WAY too soft. Is that…. Vanilla? With a growing sense of unease, his brain could only conclude that this was not his bed, and now that he was more aware, he knew that his chest was warm because of the head resting there, and his arm was asleep because someone was laying on top of it. 'Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no! Merciful Buddha , tell me that I didn't sleep with Zoë! Please!'

For a handful of seconds, he considered trying to leave without opening his eyes, but considering his sense of balance, and the fact that he might need to see to dodge gunfire, he reluctantly decided he needed to see to at least beg for his life properly. That decision made, he cracked his right eye open to see…. A shuttle roof? 'Yes! I didn't sleep with Zoë! I didn't sleep with Zoë!' was his first exultant thought, followed quite quickly by 'Shuttle roof? Oh, shit…. Did I sleep with Inara?' With that thought now in the forefront of his brain, he opened his left eye as well, and looked at the figure laying on his chest… only to be captured by Inara's smoldering gaze. "Good morning, husband."

Mal panicked, and rushed from her shuttle in a flurry of clothes and a cloud of Mandarin profanity, Inara hot on his heels, laughing so hard she could hardly stumble after him. When Mal calmed down enough to listen, she explained to him that it was only a joke, concocted by her and Zoë, and abetted by the shepherd when he realized how drunk they all were. Since they hadn't known how much Mal would remember when he awoke, or even how long he would stay standing, they decided to do the abridged Companion marriage ceremony, of which he eventually remembered some, but not all of, and, sure enough, Mal passed out five minutes into it. So they shook him awake, stood him back up and Inara kissed him. Then Zoë and Jayne dragged Mal to Inara's bed, where he collapsed unconscious immediately. Inara took a few alcodote's, and joined him in slumber in short order. Thus, when Mal started to stir, she awoke, and waited for the inevitable.

They teased him unmercifully the entire trip to Sihnon, at which point the trip became decidedly unfunny rather quickly. It seems that while Zoë and Inara were trying to get Mal up from the table, Jayne convinced the shepherd to make it 'real and official-like' by parting with one of his beloved firearms and some spare ammo. Thus, when the wedding certificate hit the Cortex three days later, it hit the Companions Guild like a firebomb, strewing gossip and speculation among the novices, and angry outcries among the House Mistresses. An investigation was launched, and when it was discovered that she had not only not informed the guild of her impending nuptials, she had not disclosed a relationship of any sort at her yearly Guild checkup only a month previous, cries of outrage were heard in open Council. Indeed, when questioned, the Guild doctor who had overseen her physical testified that she had denied such a relationship rather….. vehemently. Quite loudly, in fact.

After a great deal of debate, sometimes quite heated, and a multitude of witnesses testifying on everything from Inara Serra's wardrobe choice to her correspondence with some of the active Companions of House Madrassa, the Guildmistress said, "It is agreed then? All right, let's put it to the vote. All those in favor of Decree number 11796-44, say 'Aye'. Let all those opposed say 'Nay'." There was but a single vote of dissent. "Very well. Decree number 11796-44 of the Companion's Guild has passed by a margin of 37-1. This fifth monthly meeting of the Companion's Guild is hereby adjourned. I bid you all good evening, and I shall see most of you at next month's meeting."

Turning, she walked calmly out of a room now abuzz with conversation, and her pace was unhurried as she walked slowly out of the Guildhall and into her waiting hoverlimo. She was quite proud that she was able to keep all traces of her overwhelming sense of glee and satisfaction from her face and bearing until she was alone in her penthouse apartment.

There was a Guild messenger waiting at the Dock for them. He waited only for the engines to spool down before dashing across the apron and rapping smartly on the cargo bay door. And rapped again. And again. Finally, getting impatient, he kicked the door, and yelped as his big toe broke. Dropping onto his rear in his fine clothes, the messenger looked shocked for a second or two, and then let loose a slew of profanity fit to make a hardened spacer blush and stutter.

As Jayne was checking the cargo bay after touchdown, he heard a knock on the cargo bay door. Deciding he didn't care to see who it was just yet, he checked to make sure his weight bench hadn't overturned, and was unsurprised to find it still upright. 'Gorram moonbrain almost flies good as Wash did.', Jayne thought with a touch of wistful envy. He'd always wanted to learn to fly, just never got around to learning.

As he heard a louder thump, followed by a burst of profanity, he decided he'd pass the buck on to the Captain. Walking over and thumbing the intercom, he said, "Hey, Mal! We got a visitor, and he sounds right unhappy. What you want I should do?"

There was a long pause, and Mal's voice came back over the intercom. "Is he pointin' a gun at you?" "Well, no, but he's swearin' up a storm outside the cargo bay."

Jayne replied with a smirk, knowing from the readout that the reply had come from Inara's shuttle, instead of Mal's cabin. "Then see what the hell he wants! I'm busy!" came the indignant reply. Grinning, Jayne turned and headed for the cargo bay door, but had gone only a few steps when he heard a moan from the intercom. Still grinning, Jayne reversed direction, and stopped in front of the speaker in time to catch another, louder moan, and his grin widened, but Zoë's voice wiped it from his face. "Sir? Intercom's still on…"

Grumbling to himself, Jayne headed back across the cargo bay, and cycled the bay doors and dropped the ramp. Walking down the ramp, he looked around to see if he could spot the disturbance. Seeing a tiny little man in the uniform of a messenger, with the Companion's Guild colors prominently displayed, laying on the ground holding his right foot and swearing, Jayne's grin returned full force.

As the blinding pain in his toe faded, the messenger's profanity slowly tapered off before coming to a stop, and looking around, he spied a hulking, slightly sweaty man grinning at him, and became slightly uneasy. 'That doesn't really look like a friendly grin.' Still, he had a job to do, so he asked the man, "Is this the Firefly-class transport Serenity, captained by Mr. Malcolm Reynolds?"

"It is. You lookin' for Mal?" Jayne asked, already knowing the answer.

"I'm afraid not. I'm here on official Guild business. I need to deliver a message to Ms. Inara Serra, and her only, and then I believe I need to go to the hospital. I think I've broken my toe," the messenger finished sheepishly.

The messenger climbed painfully back to his feet, and stood waiting. Still grinning, Jayne walked back into the ship and walked to the intercom. "Hey, Inara. Got a messenger here for you."

There was a long pause, and then Inara's voice came back over the intercom. "I'll be right there."

A/N: Well, this happened faster than I thought it would, but I'm not getting any votes, yet, so please vote, people! Ranma won't come in the picture for a while yet, but I need to start setting it up, one way or the other. Still, there's a few more chapters yet before I need to start thinking about that. I'm still working on the backstory, so there's still time.

A special Thank You goes to BladeFax and RionaEire for reviewing, I appreciate it very much. Don't worry, she won't get THAT much better…. And as for Ranma…. All will be explained. Please be patient. Thank you all for reading.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters, vessels, etc. They are the property of their respective copyright holders. I'm not making any money, please don't sue.

"" = Speech

'' = thoughts

:: = telepathic communication

WARNING: lemon-scented scene ahead

Chapter the Third

"_There is nothing in the verse scarier than an angry woman. Except ca-ca-ca- those gorram furry little flesh-eating monsters that chase mice. Hate those things."_

_Ranma Saotome, location and date unknown_

"_I love cats. They're just so cute!"_

_Kaylee, Ship's Engineer, Firefly-class transport _Serenity

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"Hey, Mal! We got a visitor, and he sounds right unhappy. What you want I should do?." The sound of Jayne's voice over the intercom caused Mal, laying on his back enjoying a heavenly massage, to curse explosively, and he let out a hiss as his sword wound twinged painfully. Inara laughed, that rich, musical laugh he felt down to his toes, and warmed him inside out. He looked at her in feigned hurt, and she laughed again, the throaty, seductive laughed that trailed along his body like warm silk, and raised goosebumps down his spine.

'How does she DO that?' Mal thought to himself in wonder as he carefully got up from Inara's bed and crossed to the intercom next to the door leading to the cockpit. He checked the telltales, and, determining that Jayne was in the cargo bay, Mal felt a tingly feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was a feeling he knew well, always just before the go se hit the rotary impeller. 'Are we being boarded?' was his first thought, followed closely by, 'Man, I hope it's not a Customs inspection. We still got that cannon from Haven in the cargo bay.'

Thumbing the intercom to life, Mal asked, "Is he pointin' a gun at you?" "Well, no, but he's swearin' up a storm outside the cargo bay." At Jayne's response, Mal felt a stab of irritation, and snapped, "Then see what the rutting hell he wants! I'm busy!"

Turning to go back to the bed, he was startled to see Inara right in front of him, as he hadn't heard her move. As he opened his mouth, she molded herself to him, and kissed the words from his mouth and the thoughts from his mind. Working her way down his neck, she licked the little spot behind his jaw, eliciting a moan from him, before sliding down and grazing his collarbone with her teeth, producing a slight shiver and another, louder moan.

They both jumped when Zoë's voice came over the intercom. "Sir, intercom's still on…" Letting out a squeak, a blushing Mal quickly turned and hit the disconnect button. Inara laughed, and said, "You're so much more swai when you're blushing, air- Mal." 'Merciful Buddha, I caught myself just in time…' Seeing his blush intensify, she impishly added, "It's nothing to be ashamed of, you know. It just shows that you have good circulation, not that I need any more proof of that!"

Sputtering in indignation for a moment, Mal almost missed Inara's Freudian slip, but managed to catch it. Gathering his wits for a snipe, Mal opened his mouth, and- "Hey Inara! Got a messenger here for ya." –was interrupted by Jayne's voice over the intercom. Again.

Inara giggled, and turned back to the bed. As he watched her getting dressed, all thoughts were stricken from his head. Bemused, he watched her leave, struck again by how graceful and fluid her motions were. The only thing he could say was, "Huh."

It was several minutes before he recovered his wits enough to realize he was standing, naked and alone, in front of the door to the accessway. The accessway that connected the shuttle to the rest of the ship. Indeed, as he watched, River flashed across the intersection of the main corridor and the accessway from the direction of the bridge, hair flying behind her. Flushing in embarrassment, he scrambled into his clothes and exited Inara's shuttle. 'I swear, I'll die of embarrassment one o' these days,' were his thoughts as he left.

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As he reached the intersection, he met Zoë coming from the bridge. "You see River come through here, Sir?" she asked him, concern written across her usually taciturn expression. "She left the bridge like there were Reavers chasin' her. She was screaming something about darkness… I got a bad feelin', sir."

"I'm sure it's just 'nother one of her spells, Zoë. And ain't that a fine thing to wish." Mal muttered the last to himself, inwardly as disturbed as Zoë. "You'll see. We'll get down to the cargo bay, and Simon'll be carrying her up to her bunk, all asnooze from the smoothers."

Zoë looked unconvinced, but followed along anyway. The scene before them when they arrived, however, was anything but what they expected. Arriving at the access to the hold, they were momentarily stunned by the volume of caterwauling being produced in the room. Frozen by the tableau before them, Mal and Zoë both muttered, in perfect stereo," Wu de tyen ah…"

There, in the middle of the bay, stood Inara, Kaylee, and River, clutching each other like drowning men, and bawling their eyes out. Standing off to the side, with identical expressions of shock, were Jayne and Simon, the latter of which held a small sheaf of papers in his left hand, and a hypodermic needle in his right, momentarily forgotten.

Turning to hurry down the stairs, Mal called out to Simon, "What the hell is going on? I can't leave y'all alone for ten minutes…"

Simon jumped, startled, and the hypodermic dropped to the floor. Turning, he spied the captain and said, "Mal, I think you should take a look at this." With that, he moved to hand the sheaf of papers to Mal, who took it and read:

Mrs. Inara Serra-Reynolds,

It has come to the Guild's attention that, while away from House Madrassa, you have actively participated in a number of highly illegal activities, foremost among them being Assaulting an Operative of the Parliament, aiding and abetting known fugitives, and numerous counts of accessory to murder, as well as numerous major violations of the Companion's Guildlaws. While we have convinced the Alliance Government that you were, at worst, an unwilling accomplice in these acts, they remain firmly of the opinion that you should be punished to the fullest extent of the law. While they have no desire to anger the Companion's Guild, if you are not brought before a Tribunal of Housemistresses, and soon, they will issue a warrant for your arrest as a terrorist.

Therefore, we have no choice but to convene a Tribunal at once. Attached, you will find a copy of the Guild decree, and a payment schedule, should you choose to buy out your contract.. I'm sorry, dear, I've done all I could.

Kealara Torrin-Serra

Housemistress, House Barano

Sure enough, when Mal flipped the page, there was an official-looking document with a lot of official-ese on it. Already knowing what it said, he flipped past it, and his eyes widened at the next page. He recognized it as a payment schedule, but his mind boggled at the amount due. 'Wu de tyen ah! That's TWICE what Serenity and everything on it would bring! Wait a second…'

Flipping back to the front page, hoping he was wrong, but somehow knowing he wasn't, Mal re-read the salutation. 'Mrs. Serra-Reynolds…. Oh, shit….' He said the only thing he could think of. "Huh."

He was snapped from his bemusement by cries of "River, NO!" and "Mal, your six!" He started to turn, too stunned to respond properly, and felt a sledgehammer-like blow to the back of his head. Then the world went dark.

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A/N: Holy crap. I never expected the story to come together this quickly. I usually have to fight to get anything down at all, I've NEVER worked this fast. EVER.

Anyways, this drew out longer than I expected, as I've been trying to keep it to smaller chapters for easy updating. Come to think of it, the other chapters have been longer than this one, so I guess I'll just quit trying to keep it short and just let it flow.

A warning for all of the Inara fans out there: She will not have it easy in this fic. It's not that I don't like her, 'cause I do, it's just the way the story has worked out in my head so far… Who knows, maybe that'll change. I have also decided to extend the poll for a while in a hopefully-not-vain effort to garner more votes. There's only two so far, and one doesn't count as it is mine. As for what Mal has done to Inara, well… That's a Secret!

A special thank you goes to ufomanne and Tyme's Passage, my beta readers, and to RionaEire, for your help with the layout of Serenity, and everything else.

Ja ne


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, just playin' around. Please don't sue, not making any money.

"" = Speech

'' = thoughts

:: = telepathic communication

Chapter the Third: The Price of Tea on Persephone, or Earl Gray on Ice.

"_Never underestimate the lengths a man will go to to satisfy his sexual desires." Sigmund Freud_

"_Hell, I coulda told ya that. What a load of go se…" Jayne Cobb_

"I thought you was in a hurry, Mal. You gonna stand there all day woolgatherin' like the gorram moonbrain, or are we just takin' Badger's heavy-assed boxes for our own selves?"

Snapped from his inadvertent little trip down memory alley by Jayne's disgusted remark, Mal looked at the mercenary in annoyance. "Just waitin' on Zoë, Jayne. She'll be down soon. Course, if the little man wasn't paying so much, I'd be real tempted-like to take a crowbar to them crates my own self…."

Just then, Zoë emerged, her expression drawn and wooden, and said, "Simon and Kaylee are looking after Inara. She's still asleep, but Simon wanted her moved to the infirmary. He said something about head wounds being unpredictable, I think."

"Shiny. Let's get this show on the road."

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The first thing that peaked their suspicions was the presence of extra security in the form of a matched set of muscle, so eerily identical they had to be twins. The second thing was that Badger himself was waiting for them, grinning like a little kid at Christmas. 'Now THAT is downright creepifying…' Mal thought to himself.

No sooner had they stopped, than Badger started forward, beaming happily. "I knew ya could do it, mate. Well, come on then, let's get it inside. That stuff is valuable, and we can't be havin' it sittin' 'round on the street."

Jayne and Mal unstrapped the cargo, and the matched set of muscle quickly moved to grab the first two crates, handling them as if they weighed nothing at all. Leaving Jayne to grab the last crate, Mal walked over to Badger, who was still grinning in delight. "Way I see it, we still got the payment to clear up."

Badger, unabashed, said, "Right you are, mate. But first I want me a cuppa. It's been far, FAR too long since I've had the good stuff. I'll even grace your uneducated palate with a good cuppa. Whaddya say, mate?" So saying, he walked into the warehouse, leaving Mal to follow along in confusion. 'What the hell is a cuppa?'

Inside the warehouse, the lighting was dim, and Mal waited for his eyes to adjust. When they had, he saw that the warehouse was totally empty, save for a pair of tables. On one of the tables lay the three crates, and one of the twins had removed the iron bands on one of them, with Jayne looking on in interest. The other table held what looked to be a silver tea service, and sitting at the table was the most breathtakingly beautiful woman Mal had ever seen. Then he got a flash of her eyes, and shivered. They had been… empty. The other twin was talking to her, but Mal couldn't hear what he said. Whatever it was, she smiled and nodded, then sat back to wait.

Hearing a cry of "Oh, BABY!" behind him, Mal wrenched his eyes off the girl and turned to see Badger holding a small cryo-pod, of the type used to transport organs. Widening his eyes, Mal angrily asked, "What the gorram hell have you had me haulin'?!"

Grimacing, the little man said, "Relax, chum. It's not what you think. This," he waved the canister reverently, "is one half of a kilo of the finest tea ever seen in the verse. These crates ain't been seen since fifty years after the Exodus from Earth-That-Was, when they colonized Alpha. It ain't been opened for more five hundred years, and the only place you can get anythin' even close to it's like is the Companion's Guild, and they want five hundred bloody credits an ounce for it." Walking to the table on which the tea service sat, he set the canister down gently, and said to the girl,"Do your thing, love."

Despite himself, his interest was peaked, and he watched patiently as the girl deftly opened the cylinder and proceeded to make tea.

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As Mal, Zoë, and Jayne drove away from Badger's warehouse, one of the twins turned to Badger and said, "Very good. If you continue to keep them occupied, and keep us apprised of their approximate location, you can expect another fifteen kilo's in two weeks time. When we have another job we wish them to do, we will keep you in mind. Good day."

With that, the two Parliament Operatives departed, taking the beautiful woman with them. As they walked away, Badger smiled viciously, and said, "You bet I will, mate. Bet I will." Whistling a jaunty tune, Badger turned and made his way back inside.

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Simon was waiting in the cargo bay, expression grim, as they pulled into the cargo bay. "Mal, I need to talk to you."

Hearing the doctor's tone, Mal looked at him sharply for a second, then nodded. "Zoë, you and Jayne secure the mule, then see if you can't round up our wayward little pilot. I wanna be out of the world in half an hour."

Simon cleared his throat, and, looking down, said, "I'm afraid I had to sedate River. She had an episode of some sort, and Kaylee found her curled into a ball crying in the mess hall. She's resting in her cabin."

Sighing, Mal pinched the bridge of his nose. 'I knew today was going too easy…" Turning to Zoë, he said, "Just get 'er prepped for take-off. I'll be up soon as I can." Turning back to Simon, Mal said, "Lead on, Doc."

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Sitting in his favorite chair in the common room, Mal was surprised when the doctor did not sit, instead retrieving a bottle of strong spirits, and, pouring two fingers in a glass, handed it to Mal and poured another before sitting, himself.

"Mal, what I am about to tell you will, without a doubt, piss you off. Badly. But I need you to promise to stay calm, and drink that, and then I'll tell you…. Everything."

Shaken by the doctor's earnest expression and serious voice, Mal downed the fiery liquor in one gulp, and said, "Okay, doc. I'll do my best."

The ghost of a smile flickered across Simon's face, and he said ,"Well, I suppose that is the best one can hope for, in these circumstances. Very well then."

The doctor took a deep breath, and said, "Inara's head wound was superficial, and I suspect it was exhaustion, more than the blow to the head, that rendered her unconscious. She was severely malnourished, and very dehydrated, and when I examined her, I found…. Well, in my opinion, she's been systematically tortured, Mal. I found several partially-healed electrical burns, and a number of deep lacerations on her back, which are consistent with the marks left by a whip. She had a rather deep puncture wound in her abdomen which had received very skilled medical attention, probably within the last month. Judging by the extensive, but fading bruises which cover most of her body, I would say that she was systematically beaten within the last two weeks, with particular attention being paid to her left shoulder, which shows signs of dislocation and resetting. And…" Simon stopped, gulped deeply, and continued in a rush, "and she's about six and a half months pregnant."

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A/N: Well, I'm just about finished with what I can do before I introduce Ranma, which will happen VERY SHORTLY, so please, vote, so I can construct his back story. Sorry, ufomanne and Tyme's Passage, this came out so fast I just had to get it in. My deepest apologies. It will probably happen again, but I promise to apologize then, too.:) Thanks again to RionaEire, my faithful reviewer. Hope you like it! As a side note, I started another series to pass the time until I close the poll, which will probably happen in a few days. For those of you who don't read Ranma fanfiction, you probably won't know who the people in it are, but it might reveal a little about Ranma before he appears here. If you have questions, comments, or complaints, the place to put them is here: : .net/myforums/BackwoodsWordsmith/1837332/ My Forums:

A Fellow Traveler on the Road to Literary Enlightenment,

the BackwoodsWordsmith


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted characters in this fic. Everyone else, however, is fair game.

"" = Speech

'' = thoughts

:: = telepathic communication

Chapter the Fourth: The Attack of the Shriveled Gnome-thing, or What the Hell is That?

_"God does not play dice." Albert Einstein_

"_Not only does God play dice, but HER dice are cosmically fixed." Kana Takamure, head of R&D, TendoCorp., Japan, 2046_

On the planet Alpha, in a small room almost four kilometers under the Parliament building in the exact center of the Alliance capital city, Unification City, surrounded by state-of-the-art counter-surveillance equipment and almost obscene luxury, the fourteen most powerful men in the Alliance, the minds behind every economic, political, and military action since the Unification, gathered to hear the report of not one, but _two_ Operatives. Known only as One through Fourteen, their true names were unknown to all but the other key members, and all the power in the Alliance rested in these fourteen pairs of hands, no matter who appeared to hold the reins.

As one, the Council seated themselves, and One said, "Now that we are all here, let us hear what our agents have accomplished." At the general rumble of agreement, One said, "We shall hear your report, now."

As one, the identical Operatives rose from their kneeling position and placed the crystal databases containing their reports on the table, and began speaking.

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On the planet Osiris, far out in the country and away from prying eyes, there is located an enormous semi-underground laboratory complex owned by Blue Sun, the largest commercial entity in the 'verse. On company expense declarations, it was named Lab Complex BS-143/P, however, among the very highest executives, it was called simply the Academy. Since it's construction fifty-four years earlier, it had been the leading black project research complex in existence, and it was where anything strange was brought. Such as the cryo-pod found in the ruins of a derelict slow-ship, only fifteen years after construction.

At first, it caused a great deal of curiosity among the scientists there, for there had been no record of the ship it had been found on. Further study revealed it was identical in every way to the pods used in the slow-ships of the Exodus, except for one. It had it's own integral fission pile, which granted virtually unlimited power, and would continue to do so for some fifty-seven thousand, six hundred years, give or take a few months. Although surprising, the same modification had been made to the pods of the very wealthy, so after an initial battery of scans, it was wheeled into an underground storeroom, where it was forgotten for almost thirty years. It would have lain there, undisturbed, for centuries, but for one fortunate, or unfortunate, chance event.

Richard Atchinson, newly transferred to the Behavioral Modification section of the Level Five facility, was monumentally lost. It was only his third day, and a malicious technician had given him nonsensical directions. Now, he was lost in this sub-level of what might as well be hell, and he was starting to worry. Checking each door he passed, when he found one that was open, he entered. Spying what looked like a map on the far wall, he crossed the room to take a closer look. Relieved, he identified his location, and after some effort managed to find his assigned lab. As he turned to leave, his eyes fell on the cryo-pod, with it's heavy coat of dust, and his interest was peaked.

In the process of acquiring his degree in Behavioral Engineering, he had been interested in Exodus-era culture and technology, so he instantly recognized it for what it was. Stepping closer, he wrote down all of the part numbers he could find, and left to head to the lab, as he was already late. As he left, he vowed to himself he would find out who was in that cryo-pod.

In all, it took him almost three months to find the information he needed, and when he had it, it didn't make sense. It was clearly a standard Blue Sun Exodus-era cryo-pod with an enhanced power plant. But all the part numbers came back as being Tendocorp parts. As far as he knew, there was no such thing as a Tendocorp.

Cross-referencing the name Tendocorp with cryo-pods, he discovered that Tendocorp had actually pioneered the process, and had been one of the founding companies of Blue Sun, just before the Exodus. The only other thing he found was a name and an old two-dimensional video file, and when he saw it, he almost cried out. Ranma Saotome. Every research assistant in the entire 'verse knew that name. It was from a genetic sample taken from the oldest recorded living human, just before the Great Exodus. In the year 2187, he celebrated his two hundred twelfth birthday on the exact same day the Exodus ships had started embarking their passengers, and then he disappeared, completely without a trace. Numerous tests were run on the sample he left, but no abnormalities were detected in the DNA structure; in fact, it tested as within 99.98 percent of human norm. However, all attempts to clone or culture his genetic profile were met not only with failure, but often outright disaster, earning the sample the nickname "the Cursed Genome." But if they had the subject himself here….

Gathering all the information he had accumulated, he made an appointment for the next morning with his division supervisor.

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Samuel Matthias, Director of Neural Research, was a very busy man. He had meetings scheduled all day, and well into the night, so his secretary was quite shocked when he pressed the intercom button and said, "Miss Reese, I will be canceling my meetings for the rest of the day. I need you to reschedule all of them, and intercept all calls unless they come from the Board of Directors or higher."

Turning back to the promising young man in the comfortable chair in front of his desk, he asked, "So, Mr. Atchinson. Please be honest. Have you told anyone else of your incredible find?"

"No, sir, I haven't had time. As you know, we've been working overtime on the memory extraction process for the last three months, and I really only found out who was in the pod last night. As soon as I realized who it was, I scheduled this meeting," the young man replied nervously. Whatever he had been expecting, it certainly hadn't been this….

"Very good." Pulling on a pair of bright blue gloves, the Director picked up a small, cylindrical object from his desk. "Mr. Atchinson, you have done your company an incredible service. Please, accept this on behalf of all of us on the Board of Directors." So saying, he pressed a small recessed button on the side of the device.

Thirty seconds later, the screaming started. Undisturbed, the secretary continued sending messages of regret to all those who had meetings with the Director today.

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As Ranma Saotome slowly returned to consciousness, his first thought was, 'Man, I feel like I've gone forty rounds with Pig-boy….' As his higher thought processes slowly returned, he started to examine his ki reserves. Startled, he twitched. 'Man, I don't think I've EVER had this big a reserve…'

"It looks like the process was successful. His motor control is returning. I advise immediate sedation." Ranma was still puzzling this statement out when he felt a pinch on his arm, and everything went dark. Again.

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A/N: Well, I've decided to discontinue the poll. Since I only got three votes, I've decided that I will ignore my vote, and combine the other two. I apologize for the delay in getting this chapter out, but the Deamon Murphy had plans to permanently derail the story, so I count myself lucky to get it out at all. If you have questions or comments, please review or go to my forums. The same applies if you just HAVE to know what's going to happen next. Since I will practically be connected to my laptop twenty-four hours a day for the next several weeks, I'll probably answer as soon as you post. If there IS a delay, it's because my girlfriend is visiting, so tough. I'll get to it as I can. Well, that's enough outta me. Ja ne


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